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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29706552">he was free</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/seeds/pseuds/seeds'>seeds</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>dream centric fics [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Clay | Dream Needs a Hug (Video Blogging RPF), Crying, Dreamon, Gen, Hopeful Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Mild Hurt/Comfort, No Dialogue, Prison, Sad Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), he’s so happy to be outside, man was literally possessed cut him some slack, which is good</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 17:14:24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,348</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29706552</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/seeds/pseuds/seeds</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>The SMP is willing to give Dream a few minutes of fresh air after a year in prison. </p><p>A few minutes manages to make a lot more discoveries than anyone else had. </p><p>aka. the server learning that a certain dreamon has been in control of a certain someone</p><p>(intentional lowercase)</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Clay | Dream &amp; Sam | Awesamdude, Clay | Dream &amp; TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF) &amp; Everyone, No Romantic Relationship(s)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>dream centric fics [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2171085</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>721</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>he was free</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>i really wanted to upload this sooner but school has been a bitch :( </p><p>but! i'm here now (although i should be writing a research paper) </p><p>there's really no dialogue in this, anything spoken is in italics and there's very little of it :) enjoy!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>the echoes of sam’s intimidating footsteps softened as the door opened and his heavy armor began walking on soft grass rather than rough obsidian. </p><p> </p><p>it isn’t ideal that his only sense of freedom is this small courtyard. just a small, 8x8 area, nothing compared to the infinite lands of the smp he was so accustomed to exploring. </p><p> </p><p>but a full 64 blocks of grass, flowers, and even a tree were better than the fucked dark isolation room he has been alone in for so long. </p><p> </p><p>and he doesn’t care that the sunlight isn’t there to warm his skin, to prick at his pale hands that haven’t seen the light of day in far too long. the melancholy skies serve as a reminder that this is only a moment, a small point in time that will simply pass in a matter of minutes. </p><p> </p><p>he looked around at the living things and plants that were free, happily waving in the light wind that sent shivers down his spine. the lava-surrounded cell was much warmer than this. </p><p> </p><p>he’s crying. he told himself he wouldn’t cry, but the grass just feels so good under his feet, and the rain feels so good on his scars, and it’s easy to ignore the looks of his ex-friends as he spreads his wings for the first time in a year. </p><p> </p><p>he kneels down and runs his fingers through the grass, the small blades of green poking at his palms when he lightly places his hand on top. the dirt settles under his already long fingernails, but the small rocks mixed into the soft soil never felt this good. </p><p> </p><p>and suddenly, he wants the rain and the sky and the clouds to wash away his worries so that maybe he can feel alright for just a few minutes. so he reaches up and unclasps his mask before the loud gasps of anyone there can stop him. </p><p> </p><p>instantly, he looks up at the endless blue above him and feels cool drops meet the warm ones on his skin. he can’t find himself caring about tommy standing at the entrance, holding the axe that he crafted and the teen stole. he doesn’t care that quackity is giving him the most hateful glance of all time, or that george and sapnap are staring with amounts of pity he can’t even describe, or the blatant look of trying to compress emotions that sam is giving him. </p><p> </p><p>it’s just him and the rain. </p><p> </p><p>and as his teardrops mix with water and the dirt becomes mud, he smiles and laughs, crying even harder as he felt the outside world for the first time in a year, the isolation that had been driving him crazy for so long finally swept from under his feet and driven out by the joy. </p><p> </p><p>he’s smiling so hard that his cheeks hurt, his hollow cheeks that haven’t eaten in too long, his emotionless eyes that are finally being filled are blurry from tears. and he’s happy for the first time in too long. he clutched the grass in his fist and cries because he’s finally free and he’s ok and he’s alive and <span class="u">he can feel the grass</span>. </p><p> </p><p>and suddenly someone is holding his face, sam, wiping tears off his cheek. and he’s worried, his eyes widened in fear and sorrow and <span class="u">worry</span>. and he’s saying something along the lines of <em> are you ok, did you always have black veins? </em></p><p> </p><p>he can barely find himself shaking his head to say <em> no, it wasn’t me.  </em></p><p> </p><p>an even softer voice, the young voice of tubbo, calls from behind him, asking if he’s <em> ever heard of a dreamon? </em></p><p> </p><p>the word alone rips a sob from his throat. </p><p> </p><p>the arms that wrapped around him were more warmth than he’s felt in so long, even before the prison. he feels like someone actually cares when he buries his face into sam's shoulder, tears soaking the already wet fabric of his shirt. the smell of gunpowder was, for once, comforting. </p><p> </p><p>his throat hurt with every sob, but sam whispering to him that<em> it’s ok, you’re ok, we’re ok </em> was only making him cry harder because someone cares and that someone is <span class="u">always</span> sam. </p><p> </p><p>and they sat there for so long that the clouds ran dry, the world itself stopping its tears as dream shed his own. the comforting hand running through his knotty hair reminded him he wasn’t alone, and that meant everything to him. </p><p> </p><p>the water that sam gave him was cold, colder than the cool wind that blew against his wet clothing. it soothed his throat, the wildfire slowly being doused out and calming into a light glow of charcoals. </p><p> </p><p>and he whispered his apologies once he could finally speak. it was a quiet voice that had been broken from nights of screaming <em> i’m sorry, i’m so sorry. </em> </p><p> </p><p>and he kept repeating it, maybe someone could finally believe him, maybe he still had time to fix whatever <span class="u">this</span> was. this black hole ripping everyone’s worlds apart by something in his body. </p><p> </p><p>and sam kept telling him that <em> it’s not your fault </em>, and he kept repeating that. maybe to convince himself, their friends, or even just to convince dream. </p><p> </p><p>his friends watched on in sorrow. some, like george, sapnap, bad, and punz, watched with incredible guilt. they let their friend become infatuated by this fiend, this entity that drove him out of his own mind and caused him to take the back seat of his own car. </p><p> </p><p>some, like fundy, quackity, niki, and jack, watched with conflicting emotions. the man that caused their problems was not that man at all. their scapegoat was as innocent as the poor pets sapnap had slaughtered. </p><p> </p><p>some, like technoblade, eret, punz, and ponk, watched in sadness. they had abandoned their friend, accused their friend, left their friend when he had needed them most, when he had hit rock bottom with an empty inventory. </p><p> </p><p>some, like sam, phil, and puffy, watched with their hearts shattering. the man they saw as a boy, the man who was barely younger than them, yet they still treated like their own child, broke in front of them. they could never turn away a kid in need, yet, they all somehow found a way to. </p><p> </p><p>and some, like tommy and tubbo, watched with all of those and more. because they were the ones that felt pure fear and anger with even the mention of a smiley face. they were the ones that had been tormented for months on end, manipulated to the point where they didn’t know enemies from friends. and just when they were ready to move on, just when they felt ok about being alone and having friends this happens. </p><p> </p><p>their number one enemy was their friend all along. </p><p> </p><p>and tubbo tried to stop tommy as he walked closer to dream, but seeing as sam moved aside, let the teen go. everyone was so intent on seeing how the traumatized boy would react. </p><p> </p><p>dream waited for the slap. he waited for the punch in the gut, the broken nose, or the searing pain of a sword through his abdomen. </p><p> </p><p>but he was met with warmth. tommy had hugged him and said <em> sorry, big man. </em> </p><p> </p><p>and he knew that wasn’t all the kid wanted to say, that he needed to say. he knew that was only a small crack in the dam, and eventually, the water would come pouring out as if a tsunami had struck. </p><p> </p><p>eventually, the rocks would tumble down from their spots on the mountain. the trees would collapse under the crushing weight of their leaves, such a small, delicate problem would lead to an outpour of emotions. </p><p> </p><p>eventually, they would want answers. and they deserved every explanation he could give. </p><p> </p><p>but sitting here in the group hug that had formed around him was too inviting, too much like the home he had lost for so long. he needed the support, the help, everything they could possibly give him. </p><p> </p><p>eventually, he would have to tell a story. </p><p> </p><p>but for now, he was understood. </p><p> </p><p>for now,<em> he was free. </em></p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>thank you for reading! have a lovely morning/day/night and take care!! &lt;3</p><p>- seeds :)</p></blockquote></div></div>
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